


The color of your dreams paints my body blue.

by SilverInStars



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Centaur! Steve, Centaurs, M/M, Pining Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, dragon! tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-05 06:26:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15164624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInStars/pseuds/SilverInStars
Summary: “Does he know?” Tony asked again. It was the words he could speak, so he spoke them.Sam’s eyes dipped to Tony’s chest, “Of course he knows. Anyone would.” He cocked his head to the side, “Just Tony, you bleed blue.”The bandages were stained. Tony pressed his hand as firm as he could. The color of the skies in the Golden Centaur’s eyes, the color of the skies on his palms.“Dragon blue.”





	The color of your dreams paints my body blue.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fluffypanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/gifts).



Before the war, before Tony dug his claws into his own heart and pulled out the throbbing organ in sacrifice, before the red moons and pink skies, Tony remembered meeting Steve with a clarity that thundered through his soul. He had been brimming, trying to swallow back the bile of treachery that burned his throat raw. Obadiah had been the only kind of love he had known, a love that had driven him out of his Kingdom, running through the border villages until his heart grew emptier and the green foliage curled thicker around him. The forest protecting him where his own two hands had failed.

_“Gather the lost sons and daughters of Ixion and bring them to the mountains. Poor children! Whose hooves clatter, unearthing the soil of their forsaken home. Bring them to the mountains and she will raise them as long as they have mouths and hands with which they may consume her life blood.”_

Tony had stared up at the bright sky, the light refracting into beams that blurred his vision, and he closed his eyes, letting the warm earth comfort him as the wound on his chest quivered with the pounding beat within. He had cried then, thinking of Yinsen. The healer’s soft touch and whispered words as his blood seeped into Tony’s hands. _Don’t waste your life._

Tony’s next memories were flashes of colors and words. _There’s someone here. Legs. Human. Call Bruce. Hurt. Medicine._ The splash of a bitter taste on his tongue. _Swallow. Who. Not human. Blood. Blue._

Soft cushioning under his head, the brush of something velvety. Orange, red, brown. Black. _Looks soft. Touch._

Later, they told him he had woken up thrice in the following four days. But Tony’s mind drowned in the obscurity of blue and gold, curious and wispy. Even through his delerision Tony had let himself think, _pretty._

He had awoken in a dark tent, sweating through the blankets wrapped firmly around himself. He peeled them off his slicked skin. His chest ached when he patted the stained bindings. It stung, but the pain was muted. There were piles of fur near his feet, and wooden barrels grouped to his left. Tony looked around, eyes vacant, mind screeching. There was a sliver of light at the opening, and when he breathed, the air rushed in. Tony laughed, his hand twisted into his locks, and he thought of Yinsen again, and he thought, _Why am I not dead?_

The clatter at the entrance had been unceremonious, but it cut through his histeria. A head of gold pushed through the parting, _wispy,_ it was crowned by twin horns, curved and twisting in delicate spirals. He looked up, letting himself be distracted by the tail swishing in front of his eyes. The strands were a silky yellow, blending well into a paler hide. He eyes traveled further up, to the sparsely muscled back and soft belly, higher, where sleek fur tapered off into bare flesh.

_Pretty._

Obadiah had always laughed at him for finding them beautiful. ‘They are just beasts dining under the pretense of being men’ he used to say, and years ago, when Tony hadn’t yet had anything harsher than soft cotton tunics brushing against his skin, he would have disagreed with him. Obadiah would have laughed now as well, and Maria would have been scandalized.

The centaur’s eyes met with Tony’s and he felt his breath leave his chest in a whoosh. Blue. They were so blue, and clear as the morning skies. The Centaur blinked, and Tony looked away.

“You’ve awakened.”

Tony wanted to reply with a snarking wit, it had been something he used to be known for. But his chest burned, and his tongue remained knotted in his chest. He remembered whispering the secrets of his magic into Obi’s ears, remembered his guardian’s soft encouraging eyes, the heat in his chest intensified, and Tony’s hand came up to clutch at it.

“Can you- can you talk?”

Tony used to speak in quick overlapping words once, ‘you should be more careful’ Rhodey’s words, ‘one day it won’t be me listening.’ Tony had shrugged him off, of what value were Tony’s rambles, he had thought. He had trusted. He opened his mouth, but the air was stuck in his throat. Talking. Tony had done a lot of that, a tremulous barrage of words leaving his lips and drawing patterns from the constant mess that had been his magic and his mind. Now the words choked him, and when Tony thought about what his father would say, seeing him like this, pathetic and small, he wanted to find the nearest blade and slice his own throat open so the words could spill out and wash away his sins.

The Centaur heard his gasp, and rushed over, hooves thundering until he lowered himself next to Tony, pushing a sloshing flask into Tony’s shaking hands.

“Drink.” He ordered, and Tony was surprised when the liquid managed to flow down his throat. The Centaur shifted beside him, and Tony watched the arrangement of long tawny legs in rapture.

He stayed silent while Tony drank, slim face and heavy jaw set firmly. Tony could see the the twitching muscle in the curve of his Jaw, for some reason the Centaur was annoyed, Tony had no way of knowing why. Had they figured out who he was, he wondered. But if they had, Tony couldn’t imagine they would treat him with such care.

When Tony set the flask down, the Centaur finally made to speak again, “I apologize if the question was insensitive.We found you in the Forest collapsed by a creek, you were severely injured,” his eyes dropped down to Tony’s chest, and Tony spread his palm to cover it protectively. “We tried to treat you the best we could, but our healer said you have a very...rare physiology, so we could only hope you would recover. You-you lost a lot of blood.”

Ah, so here they had circled around to the point. Tony now knew what they wanted from him in return for the aid. His chest was bare save the bindings, and Tony forced his hands down to his sides. He pressed his lips together, and the Centaur’s eyes tracked the movement.

“You don’t have to talk now if you don’t want to,” he paused, “or if you can’t”

Tony frowned, and then his own eyes widened. The Centaur thought he might be mute. ‘Words’ Obadiah had said, ‘They will always be your downfall’. He looked at the stained bindings, at his callused hands, and then he looked at the Centaur, and nodded slowly. It was cowardly, it was so cowardly, and Tony had promised Yinsen he wouldn’t run away anymore. If Tony died here, it might be well-deserved, but Tony had a duty now, and his life was no more his own.

He didn’t reply further, blinking slow at the Centaur. The man-beast looked back at him for a long moment. His too blue eyes were sharp and searching. Tony wondered what he could see, those were clever eyes, maybe they’d be able to find the answers Tony had lost.

“Wait here.” The Centaur said finally, he stood to his hooves again, and in the same clatter he had made his entrance, he left.

The tent had been smaller than anywhere Tony had ever slept. His chambers in Stark castle had been lavish. But later, when Tony would recall this moment again, he would remember how the light from the lantern had shone along the Centaur’s pale coat. He would remember the coarse blankets being warm. He would remember how from the first moment they met, the Centaur had never looked at Tony like he pitied him.

The Centaur’s fellow herdsmen had been unhappy that night. While Tony drifted in and out of sleep he could hear them arguing. They were not subtle, throwing every accusation they could think of, feeding every festering suspicion.  The light from the lamp continued to flicker. He thought someone had come in at night to change the bandages on his chest. There was a warm hand and moving shadows on the surface of the tent. It wasn't the golden haired Centaur, Tony would have known. The heart in his chest beat in double time, and with the morning sunrise, Tony was lulled into a deep sleep with its steady thumping.

The morning after brought another Centaur to his tent, this one had dark skin and a glossy red coat. His body radiated strength with lean muscle and a strong posture, but when he looked at Tony a small smile quirked his lips, almost like he was perplexed by what he was seeing, “I’ve been told that you cannot speak.” He said, cutting to the chase, “You might have fooled Cap with that, but don’t expect the same with the rest of the herd.”

Tony raised an eyebrow and then pointedly looked away. For the first time since he had received it, Tony hoped his heart would stop hammering in his chest. Did this Centaur know? Would he report Tony if he did? What would happen to Rhodey, Pepper and everyone else if Tony didn’t survive? The questions clamored for attention in his head, each pushing his anxiety further along. Tony had to survive. He had to.

The Centaur sighed, “I’m Sam, we are the Southern Centaur herd. We found you in the mountains four days ago. You were severely injured,” he nodded towards Tony’s chest, and then his face drew grim, “This is a militant camp. The man you met earlier is our Captain, Steve. The doctor and he both insisted we treat you.” His arms were crossed in front of his chest, fingers drumming a pattern on his elbow.

Tony caught sight of a loose thread sticking out the border of one of the blankets. His fingers curled into his knuckles. He couldn’t fidget with it. It wasn’t his. Neither was this cut off space in the tent. He looked at the opening just passed the Centaur’s head. The light coming from the opening was bright, a yellow so pale it was almost white. Tony plucked the words hidden in the glare and then spoke them, “Does he know?” Who was he asking about.The doctor, or the Golden haired Centaur who was a vision from one of Tony’s childhood books. The ones with painted illustrations that had spun a quandary in his head.

“So you speak after all. Tell me your name first, then you may have your question.” The Centaur said. His horns curved straight up from his forehead. Tony kept his eyes on them, “I am Tony.”

“Tony?” He was prompted further.

“Just Tony.”

The Centaur hummed in disbelief but didn’t question him. “Well ‘just Tony’, I am Sam.”

“Does he know?” Tony asked again. It was the words he could speak, so he spoke them.

Sam’s eyes dipped to Tony’s chest, “Of course he knows. Anyone would.” He cocked his head to the side, “Just Tony, you bleed blue.”

The bandages were stained. Tony pressed his hand as firm as he could. The color of the skies in the Golden Centaur’s eyes, the color of the skies on his palms.

“Dragon blue.”

 

____

 

Steven spent the days the Dragon took to recover tending to his bedside. It was not the norm for the Captain to take care of stragglers. But the man’s chest was stained in patterned blue, and he had curled his palm around it with so much fear, had looked at Steve with such desperation in the second they had spoke, that Steven was reluctant to leave his well being to someone else. He trusted his herd, he just couldn’t wipe away the image of the dragon’s wide shaking eyes from his mind.

The others seemed to understand this was not a time to argue and left him to it. Bruce still hovered in his periphery, bringing him medicine and fresh bindings. Tony liked talking to Bruce when he came by, it wasn’t much, and he would trail off from time to time, but he’d ask about the medicine with curiosity. Not to Steve though, just Bruce.

When he wasn’t sleeping or talking, he just stared off into a corner of the tent, ignoring Steve’s attempts at conversation. Steve changed his sheets, brought him his meals, and then held meetings as the sun was going down. He knew his time was a luxury, they would be heading out any day now. Steve couldn’t afford the distractions. But each time he would settle Tony’s blanket’s around him telling himself it would be the last, he would catch sight of a white knuckled fist and a furrowed brow.

Even as the days passed Tony’s sleep was not fitful. He would whimper and thrash around, they would have to settle him with herbs that calmed the mind. His bedding was always sweat soaked, and once, just once, Steve had caught the errant tear that escaped a tightly squeezed lid.

Tony was careful of the wound on his chest, so Steve felt protective over it too. There were many aspects to Tony that screamed of vulnerability. His hair curled around his forehead, flicking with soft looking whisps. His frame was trim and muscled, but there were rounded curves to his hips and shoulders. His forearms and biceps were strong, veins bulging, Steve couldn’t help the way his eyes dragged along them from time to time. But the way he held them, close to his chest, was delicate. He curled in on himself as much as he could without aggravating his wound.

Something about him made Steve ache. He didn’t know the dragon, but he felt connected to him anyway.

Steven hadn’t been born a child of the mountains. Once, he had belonged to the plains, to vast land that stretched on beneath his hooves. The wind had been ever changing, and his mother would reach out for him with a laugh that was wild and free. Steven hadn’t been a strong foal and his horns had just been little stubs on his forehead. The plains were unrestrained, but Steven had been restless. His legs felt too long for his body. His body too small for his heart. He would watch the herd run, watch the bright eyes and pink cheeks that breathed life into the dry grass and wet mud. The herd had been beautiful, and Steven would always mourn not being able to run with them. His legs were too weak, his chest even weaker.

When the humans had come, they had brought with them magic that took from the earth. Steven remembered the fires, he remembered being weak. He remembered fighting anyway. Most of all Steven remembered his mother’s pleading eyes as she pushed him towards Bucky’s stronger form. He remembered screaming as she was pulled away from him and he remembered the first time he looked ahead and did not see her long strides as she galloped past him.

The humans had wanted land. The humans had wanted slaves. The land Steven had been born on, where he had seen his mother on her last run, now belonged to the humans and their magic. They built their settlements and the herd was lost but for Steven’s memories

They had retreated to the mountains then, the outcasted gathering to new herds, and new settlements. But that was a story from years ago, when Steve was barely weaned off his mother’s teat. Now he had a herd of his own, with Bucky by his side still. It was a story he recalled however, when Clint and Bruce had brought the wounded dragon home. _Tony,_ Sam told him, _he calls himself Tony._ And the little quirk to his mouth reminded Steve that _Tony_ had not spoken to him, but to Sam.

“You’re pouting again Steven.” Bucky came cantering up beside him, a cheeky grin to his mouth.

“I hope you trip the next time you decide to flirt with a mare.” Steve replied, the indent below his lip deepening.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“Are we being nice now?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Sam might know.”

They were at the edge of the camp, Steve had been looking into the wall of trees before Bucky had joined him. Bucky flicked his tail at Steve in worry. He was taller than Steve, his chestnut fur contrasting.

“Is this about the Dragon Clint and Bruce found?” He asked, giving up on trying to be sneaky about it. His horns were angled towards Steve in ill-concealed curiosity.

Steve looked at the tent in question. It was separated from the camp, close enough to keep an eye on, far enough to keep any trickery at bay. “The General wants him gone as soon as possible.”

“That’s not an unfair expectation.”

Steve bristled, “He’s hurt!”

“And we’ve done what we can to heal him.” Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulder.

Steve sighed, “I know, but it just feels like a waste to drive him away.”

“You think he could be of some use to us?” Bucky asked.

“He’s a dragon.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“He might be persuaded.”

Bucky raised a brow at him, “And you’re the one that wants to do the persuading, is it?”

Steve flushed and his tail flicked at Bucky, “I’m not going to reply to that.” He moved away from Bucky after, the laughter that followed him bright and teasing.

Steve couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the blood that flowed blue and guarded eyes that swirled with magic. He didn’t know why the Dragon, Tony, had found it difficult to talk to Steve. He remembered the male’s expression, the lines on his face drawn deep. For a moment, Steve had thought he was crying out for help.

They had things to worry over. The humans were encroaching deeper into their territory by the day. Steve had a war to fight. He was Captain of the herd. Despite his weaknesses, they had seen him fit to lead their strategies and Steve couldn’t let them down. Not when the lives of so many counted on him. The fights they had won to date and the fights they would win from now, his hooves were heavy on the earth with the determination to see them through it.

 

\---

 

The Dragon remained in their care during the following week as well. He healed quick, but the wound in the center of his chest remained stubborn. Bruce, their resident healer, suspected magic. But whenever they questioned Tony about it, he would get a far off look on his face and shut down. He was open enough about other things. Natasha was sent to interrogate him next, and he told her about where he came from, the northern mountains, where the dragon flocks lived guarding their territory with magic that was rumored to be vicious. The humans had been unable to encroach their home as they had with the Centaurs. Unlike the Centaur herds, the dragons were well versed in magic and trickery, they could hold the humans at bay.

To Steve, Tony came as an opportunity. If they could have the knowledge of the dragons at hand, maybe they’d have a chance of winning this war. The Dragons lived in seclusion, and held their secrets close. So it was rare to find one this far from home. He pushed up the opening to his own tent and found Bruce waiting for him. Bruce had been living in these mountains before Bucky and Steve had stumbled into his isolated dwelling, wounded and desperate. Bruce had been nervous at first. He had been young, Bucky and Steve even younger. But between muttering about how he was not cut out to handle children, he had treated them, fed them, bundled them up, and let them sleep in his tent for the night.

Later, when Steve had decided to leave the main herd and found the courage to lead his own, Bruce had been his first pick for whom he wanted as their main healer. Bruce was seated in front of a small table Steve had set up to write letters so he could communicate with General Fury when required. Bruce gave Steve a wry grin on his entry,  “I’m guessing Bucky already tried to talk to you.”

Steve huffed, “If you want to insinuate something as well, I don’t have the time for it.”

“Did Bucky insinuate something then?” Bruce asked.

Steve felt himself flushing again, “I don’t know why you all think I can’t make a decision about a dragon I met once. We’ve barely said two words to each other!”

Bruce pursed his lips, and Steve felt like he was trying not to laugh at him. “Do you think how upset you’ve been about Tony talking to everyone but you might have something to do with it?”

Steve knew his face was frowning, even though he was trying his best to control it, “I’m not bothered by that.”

“I know you’re hoping he will stay and help Steven, but he might decide not to.” Bruce warned gently.

Steve sighed, “I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m attached to the dragon, but I’m not. I’ll be fine with whatever decision he makes. We don’t know if we can trust him yet.”

“But you do,” Bruce said, with an insight he had likely gleaned off Natasha.

Steve didn’t reply to that, instead he told Bruce he had plans to draw up for their next attack. Bruce didn’t push him further. When he wasn’t in the middle of battle, Bruce was a calming presence. He was taller than Steve, but didn’t loom, a stocky presence. His coat was white speckled with grey, like little puffs of smoke. His horns were completely spiraled in.

Steve could count on Bruce when he needed an opinion that was both unbiased and lacking demand. Bruce didn’t have expectations, despite his demure presence the Centaur was adamant about handling his affairs himself. Steve sometimes wished he would count on the rest of them a little more. Depend on Steve a little more, it made him wonder if he was being a good enough leader. He wasn’t strong like Bucky. He couldn’t physically battle beside them as he wanted to. He was a handicapped Captain- though they would protest if he ever vocalized these thoughts so he buried them deep.

He took a deep breath and lit the lamp at his desk. The sun was going down and soon and Steve needed to draft a new plan tonight. They had made some progress in the recent years, taken back a few of their old settlements, but it was still not enough. They needed to take back the Capital City. The humans had made it their stronghold, and if Steve could manage to bring down the Capital City, they would be able to take back their land.

The Capital City however, was guarded by the strongest magic users, and the barriers were almost impossible to penetrate from the outside. It was why Steven’s heart had raced with hope when they had found Tony. Dragons were known for their strong magic, if they managed an alliance it would turn the tide for them. But that was only if Tony could be trusted, and wasn’t a spy from the Capital City.

Steve had no way of confirming or denying the same. But Tony had been near death when they had found him, it felt like too big a risk to take for an infiltration. And why Steve’s herd? What was there to be gained from a nomadic branch. Unless there was a traitor in their midst, Steve’s herd should have appeared insignificant. He didn’t doubt any of them, and as such, he was inclined to believe Tony had really come across them unaware. Or it was what he hoped.

 

\----

 

Two days later, they staged another attack. It was another village, one of the outskirt settlements, but it provided another route towards the Capital City. Steve had waited at the border of their encampment for his men to make their way back, led by Bucky. Tony’s tent was nearby and when the warriors made their way above the horizon, he stuck his head out of the opening of his tent watching them. Bucky was at the forefront, a wide grin on his face, laughing with the rush of remaining adrenaline and a mission accomplished.

Steve watched him with Tony, and when Tony’s eyes fell on him, Steve felt stripped raw. He knew, he _knew_ he would only be a burden on the field. But with Tony’s eyes on him, Steve was lit with a fierce desire to have been on the other end. The one decked in armor. The one who risked his life. He wanted to be the one laughing with pride, Steve swallowed.

He smiled at Bucky as he came closer and slung an arm around Steve’s neck, “It went as you said, Stevie! They didn’t expect we would be able to work around those flame throwing spells they like. But oh! The look on their faces when we proved them wrong Stevie, I wish you could have seen that.” Bucky’s laughter was joyous, his words light and affectionate. Steve was happy they won. He was. But Tony’s dark eyes were on him, and Steve felt like he was something lesser than when he looked away.

They celebrated that night, lauded the warriors with warm drink and delicious food. Tony sat with them now that he was strong enough to. Now that they weren’t as wary of him. He laughed and teased with the best of them. He seemed wary of Natasha, she was impressive Steve knew, with her coppery coat shining red in the fire and her horns a dark grey sweeping up straight from her forehead. Tony eyed her carefully when she poured him a drink.

He was charming, getting along especially well with Bucky. The two of them finding conversation in pretty tails and pretty eyes and comparing notes on their individual experience. Bucky tried to pull Steve into the conversation, but Tony would always fall quiet around Steve, a flush descending on his cheekbones. It confounded Steve, and since he didn’t want Tony to feel uncomfortable he broke off from the conversation.

Steve found himself walking into the dense forest as the night went on. The moon shone silver over his head and his heart was too full of conflicting emotion. There wasn’t a day where Steve didn’t wonder if he was doing enough. He knew he wanted to do more, he knew the strategies he came up with helped them. But each time the warriors returned, Steve’s heart grew heavier. Tomorrow they would groom themselves, getting rid of the collected blood and dirt, and Steve would only be reminded once again, that he wasn’t doing enough.

He clenched his fists and was ready to move into a gallop to let off some stress, but a rustling to his left caught his attention. Tony stepped into view and Steve froze. He was almost not breathing when Tony had approached his side, eyes trained on the golden expanse of Steve’s side. He was wearing a billowy white shirt, probably lent to him by Bruce. Steve felt like he would disappear with a blink. Tony just looked at Steve for a while, gaze as unnerving as it had been the day before. Steve wanted to speak, he had questions, things he wanted to know. Not about the war, not about Tony’s past, but just things he wanted to know about the dragon standing in front of him.

What does it feel like to fly?

What are the color of your scales?

What does your magic feel like?

Instead he held his breath, afraid. Afraid the moment would be broken and Tony would leave. But Tony didn’t leave, he took a step closer to Steve, close enough that if he stretched out a hand he would be able to touch Steve’s flank. The night air was cold, and it sent a chill up Steve’s back, all the way from his tail to his neck. Tony whispered out a question into the soft breeze, and if Steve hadn’t been straining his ears to listen, he would have missed it.

“What do you fight for?” He asked Steve. And again, Steve took in the contrast of him. His casually held body, his curls in the breeze, the way he looked just off, past Steve when he asked his question, like the answer didn’t matter, and then his eyes, those eyes that screamed to Steve. Filled with so many fleeting emotions that Steve felt like his fastest run would not be enough to catch them all.

Tony waited patiently while Steve thought of his answer. He knew it, he knew it the moment the question was asked. But the weight behind those lightly spoken words made him pause and think of it anyway. He saw Bucky’s smiling face, he saw Bruce huddling over a pot of salve, he saw Natasha when she first came to them, a spy, a traitor, and a heart looking to be loyal. And he saw his mother, in his mind, where she would always gallop ahead of him, through fields of golden grass that blurred her hooves and made it look like she could run up and up to the sky. And he knew it again.

“To protect.” He said, firmly.

Tony’s mouth quirked up into a smile, “What about winning?”

Steve frowned at him, “What’s the point of winning if I can’t protect anyone?”

Tony huffed out a laugh, it was airy, and Tony had laughed a lot that night, joking with Bucky, and teasing Bruce. But as he laughed now, with his chin tucked down and his eyes crinkled, Steve felt something in his chest tighten. He was seeing something rare, he knew.

“Well Captain, that’s what they call you right? Do you think you have some space in your herd for a winged lizard then?” He was laughing again, like he had cracked a particularly amusing joke. One Steve didn’t understand. No, Steve’s heart was hammering in his throat. He had so much to say, Natasha would want him to ask Tony what his motivations were, Bucky would caution Steve to not open up his heart to easily. Every inch of Tony screamed of something more, something dangerous. Steve knew, dragons were predators after all.

“Alright, I’ll ask Bruce to show you around tomorrow then.” Was his answer in spite of everything.

Tony laughed for a third time in his presence, and Steve felt warmed on that cold night. That evening Steve sat in front of his letter to the General. The main base was deeper in the mountains with various sub-herds scattered around. He had written to General Fury on the first day of Tony’s arrival. The General had sent orders to get rid of Tony as soon as possible since he could prove a liability. But Steve thought differently. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and bent to ink down his thoughts.

 

\----

 

The morning after everyone woke up groaning, it took awhile for the herd to gather by their tents. Steve and a few of the others who had withheld from partaking in fermented drink the night before had managed to wake up earlier and set up the barrels of water, brushes, and cleaning bars and liquids. Steve grinned as Bucky came stumbling out of his tent looking like he had just gone one on one with a dragon and lost. He tossed him a soapy brush, and Bucky sighed as he caught it and then walked over to where Sam was wetting his coat. Half asleep still, his body automatically worked on scrubbing out the dirt in circles from Sam’s coat. Sam sighed at the feeling, head lolling forward in relaxation.

They weren’t the only two, and soon the whole herd was convening, grooming each other taking special care of those who had returned the day before. Steve was working on Nat’s hooves with a pick. It had taken a lot for her to trust him with this, she had preferred doing everything herself at first, and only asking for help if it was dire. Nat was brushing Bruce’s side with a hard brush, while Bruce grumbled about making improvements to their cleaning soaps.

“I don’t see your dragon around.” Natasha commented as she passed the brush over bruce’s shoulders.

Steve flushed, “He’s not mine.” It would be useless arguing against her he knew. “I suppose he’s still sleeping. We did keep him up late last night.”

Nat sniggered and Steve tapped her with the handle end of the pick in admonishment. He was a little too scared of her to do anything more.

“Shame,” Natasha replied, and Steve was going to ask her what she meant when they were interrupted.

“What’s a shame?” Tony asked them. He had obviously just woken up, pants low on his hips and hair in a disarray. Steve was distracted enough to miss the question.

Bucky was the one who answered, “Nothing, it’s just a shame that Stevie here’s not been able to take of himself since he’s been busy with the rest of us.” He and Nat both shared the same mischievous grin, and Steve was tempted to remind them that they both had refused to trust Tony only two days ago.

Tony was watching them with curiosity now. “Is this like some kind of herd-bonding thing?” He asked.

Sam nodded from beside Bucky, “Something like that. Here, I’ll show you what to do.” He said, and before Steve could comprehend what was going on, both he and Tony were standing, Tony to his side with a curry brush in his hand. Sam had given him basic instructions, and Tony had hesitated for a second before beginning to gently brush Steve’s side with the curry. He had one bare hand braced along Steve’s belly, and with a focus that was jarring, he brushed out any dirt from Steve’s side.

Steve felt awkward, his entire body ached with awareness. He would probably be able to map the path Tony’s hand has travelled for decades to come. The way his fingers sometimes dug under Steve’s coat, the meticulous care he took in making sure there was no debris remaining. Tony’s palms were warm, even as he stood behind Steve to run them up Steve’s flanks. He worked in silence, and Steve desperately wanted to break it. Why was it always so hard for him to talk to Tony? Even when they were doing something so intimate. He chanced a glance to his side, and his eyes widened at Tony’s eyes. They were darkened with the intensity of his focus, there was something about being under that gaze that made Steve feel like the whole world had stilled to Tony’s hands on his body.

He didn’t even know Tony well, but he had promised the man a place amongst the herd. He flustered under a look, and chased after words that never came to him. Just as Tony was caring for him now, Steve had cared for him too. But unlike Tony’s unmeaning touches, Steve felt like he was being enchanted. It was ridiculous. Steve needed to stop. But even now his eyes darted to Tony’s chest, covered in another one of Bruce’s shirts beyond which was clotted flesh and what would turn into an impressive scar, he find anything he wanted to look at more. 

“Is it your heart?” Steve regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth. He knew the legends. He had seen the way Tony tapped a rhythm against his chest when he thought no one was looking. Steve has guessed, as had the others.

Tony flinched hard, he tried to hide it with quick nonchalance, but his eyes remained hard. “So you heard the stories, eh.” He said. He grabbed the pick and then nudged Steve’s foot gently. “Yeah, it’s my heart.” He admitted softly, and Steve could feel his eyes burn for a second. He blinked hard. Tony looked up at his face and blanched. “Hey, no, it’s okay. Geez, I didn’t know you were such a bleeding heart, Captain.” He joked.

He started to chip away at Steve’s hooves before continuing, “I’ve never done this part before so tell me if I’m doing something wrong, yeah.” He hummed, “where to start, how about the beginning, cap?”

Steve nodded, “the beginning sounds good, though Tony, you don’t have to do this,” he said, and the emotion in his own voice embarrassed him.

Tony waved his hand, “This is supposed to be bonding time, we’re bonding.”

It was the most Tony had spoken to him since he had arrived. Steve didn’t have it in himself to stamp down his curiosity, and a large part of him wanted to be the one Tony shared his story with. Not Sam, not Nat, but him.

“Dragons are usually born with two hearts,” Tony’s hand made an aborted motion towards his chest, before he realized he was occupied and just sighed wearily, “They beat with every adventure we go on, feel affection towards those we love, ache for all our losses,” Tony paused here, “two hearts, one for the dragon, and one for the Dragon’s mate.” Tony cleared his throat, “A dragon gives his second heart to their mate when they decide to bond. Dragon hearts are pretty powerful, so when two dragons share their hearts, they form a bond.”

Steve’s own heart was thundering in his chest as he listened to Tony. He wondered what it would be like, to receive the heart of a dragon. To receive Tony’s heart. His own heart sat in his chest, but Steve was sure it was pounding throughout his body, and he wondered if Tony could feel it, with his hand steadying Steve.

“My heart,” Tony said, and Steve could feel his eyes start to burn again, for this dragon he barely knew, “was stolen from me.”

Steve was reaching down and gripping Tony’s arm. Tony refused to look at him, the last of his words colored in something horrifyingly close to embarrassment. “What happened?” Steve asked, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the answer. Steve wasn’t strong, not like the rest of the herd. Most mornings it was all he could do to wake up and not cough out a lung. But with Tony’s skin warm under his, and the pain he hid in his eyes echoed with an emptiness that made Steve want to cry for him.

“The man I thought I loved took it from me,” Tony laughed out, “idiotic right? It was the only useful part of me I guess so it makes sense that he took it.”

“Don’t say that,” Steve replied, his voice didn’t sound like his own. “It’s not your fault if he couldn’t see your worth.” Steve continued, looking at Tony determinedly. Forgetting that they didn’t know each other, forgetting Tony’s aversion to talking to him, forgetting everything expect Tony’s eyes on him, and Steve’s promise that he could stay.

Tony tilted his head to the side, curls fluttering at the motion. He was so pretty, and Steve couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting every single bit of him. “And what do you think my worth is, lovely?” Tony asked him, the question deceivingly innocent.

Steve floundered, he could feel the redness creep back into his cheeks and cursed his pale complexion. Tony just laughed at him, and then stood up, shrugging off Steve’s hold on him, “I’m just kidding, you don’t have to answer that.”

He came back with the hard brush, and Steve resolved to spend the rest of the grooming session without blurting out something stupid. Like how he would have treasured Tony’s heart with his whole being had he been the one to receive it. Tony was beautiful, and strong. Steve was just Steve, and whatever these feelings where, they were better buried deep within himself.

Bruce spent the afternoon showing Tony around. Tony was disinterested by the cooking areas, but his eyes sparked when he saw Natasha and Bucky sparring and asked Bruce if they had a forge. They didn’t, and Bruce later told Steve he had not seen another more scandalized. It was a few weeks of Tony filling Bruce’s head with ideas by the end of which they both came to the conclusion that the camp needed a forge. Nothing extreme, but one where Tony could demonstrate his magic. Natasha and Bucky were still wary of this, but Bruce’s eyes shone with the potential of experiencing something new.

The attacks continued on a small scale, Steve changed his strategies each night, it wouldn’t do for him to start getting predictable.

When the forge was made, it proved a different kind of distraction to Steve. Tony spent most of his day toiling over it. He worried for a while whether it was really okay for the injured man to be doing heavy work. But Tony had lifted his shirt and shown Steve the pinked flesh of his new scar. Dragons healed quick. Steve had pointedly not looked lower, at the toned muscles of Tony’s abdominal.

“See! All good to go Cap, you worry too much,” Tony said, pulling his shirt back down. Steve was torn between wanting to see more, and being grateful over the covered temptation. It didn’t help much however. Tony spent a lot of time at the forge, sweating and hammering away, the muscles of his arms tensing and bulging under the strain of heavy lifting. Steve’s throat was perpetually dry.

His shook his head to clear his thoughts, Tony blinked up at him again. He did that a lot, he wouldn’t talk to Steve as much, (not the way he’d go on and on with Bruce) but sometimes he’d look at Steve for a while, and then blink. Steve had yet to figure out what he meant by it. “I just don’t want you to overdo it, Tony. It’s just been a little over a month since you were injured.”

“Well, don’t worry about it. I heal fast,” Tony said, brushing off Steve’s worry.

Steve wondered if he would say the same about his missing heart. He wondered what it felt like. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know. But the thought of seeing Tony’s pained expression again deterred him. So he kept the questions close to his own heart and laid them to rest.

Fury’s letters started to come with less regularity as their days became numbered. Steve started to stress over all the contingencies. He was up all night picking holes into his own plans. His bones ached and his lungs felt like they would collapse any day, but Steve tried to push himself past his limits. The warriors were getting tired too, Steve knew this. Unlike Steve, they put their lives at risk. He needed to do more.

 

\----

 

And then the worst happened. Bucky came back missing an arm. Clint was with him, Fury had sent out two camps for the mission. Only half of one returned, Clint would join their camp now. Steve had never hated his own inability more than when he saw the blood on Bucky’s shoulder and his friend’s pale face.

They groomed again. It would take Bucky a while to recover. Tony was careful with Steve that day. The had secluded themselves away from the camp. The curry almost caressing Steve’s side with its gentleness.

“It’s my fault.” Steve told him.

“No it’s not.” Tony replied.

“I should have been more careful.”

“You couldn’t have known this would happen, Cap.”

“I’m the one that sends them out there. I’m the one who plans the attacks.”

“Steve,” Tony said, and Steve was startled by the use of his name, “maybe there was something you could have done, maybe there wasn’t. But you did your best.”

“My best wasn’t enough then.” Steve pushed through gritted teeth.

“No, that’s not it.” Tony wrapped his arms around Steve. Steve knew Tony meant nothing but comfort by the gesture, but it made his heart leap anyway. “We’re all just doing our best Steve. Sometimes shit happens, but that’s not because we didn’t do our best.”

Steve trembled under his touch. He felt so inadequate, a parading monkey. A Captain who didn’t ride into battle. A Captain who could only sit on the sidelines. “I don’t deserve this if I can’t even take care of them. It’s the one thing I’m supposed to do.”

“And you do that everyday.” Tony reminded. He stayed there for a while, just holding Steve. Sam happened upon them later, and Tony jumped away from Steve like he’d been set on fire. His face was suspiciously red, and Sam’s brows went higher up when he caught the matching red on Steve’s cheeks.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asked.

“No,” Steve pouted, his expression saying yes. Sam wasn’t really one to cater to Steve’s expressions, and he cantered over to them with an amused expression on his face, “I hate to break up the lovebirds, but Bruce was looking for you Tony. I think he’s wondering if maybe your magic can help with Bucky’s arm.” He frowned at the last bit.

Steve sobered up further, and he saw Tony shoot him a worried look from the corner of his eye before agreeing to follow after Sam. Steve stared down at his own slender arms after Tony left. He pressed his lips into a thin line. No more.

Tony’s magic was beautiful to watch. And Bucky’s injury seemed to have affected him as well. He worked tirelessly to imbue magic into all their weapons. He carved intricate runes into the metal, ones that produced lightning or fire, some that had basic shielding abilities. Steve couldn’t deny that the newer weapons gave them an added edge in battle.

Tony gifted Bucky with a metal arm, and Steve caved and went to face his friend in his tent. Bucky just grinned wide at Steve when he entered. He was curled up in his bedding, and Nat was organizing a line of apples he could toss knives at on the other end.

“I’m sorry, Buck” were the first words out of Steve’s mouth.

Bucky’s expression immediately pulled sour, “Could you give me a minute with this knucklehead, Nat?”

“Be my guest.” Natasha walked out, ducking under the opening. Before she was completely out, she turned to face Steve, “You are such a big idiot, it’s not even funny anymore.”

“Hey! You say that, but I’ve seen you hide a smirk or two” Steve called out after her.

She didn’t reply, but the silence was light.

“You are an idiot, you know.” Bucky shook his head, “No, I think you’re way past being an idiot.” He widened his eyes dramatically, “You’ve achieved the impossible,” he said, wiggling his fingers in Steve’s direction. The arm Tony’d designed him was gorgeous (of course it was). He seemed to be coping well with it, if the way he was teasing Steve was anything to go by.

It was a bright Silver, and Steve wondered where Tony had managed to get to metal from. Then he thought, maybe it was magic. Bucky cleared his throat, and Steve realized he was staring. He didn't look away however, he knew that was not what Bucky wanted. Steve had avoided him long enough. Bucky patted the blankets beside him, and Steve bent at his knees to settle in. Bucky’s side was warm, even his new arm was warm.

“S’not your fault.” Bucky grumbled, he wrapped a hand around Steve’s neck and then pressed his nose to Steve’s. The gesture was comforting, and Steve just hated himself more for putting Bucky in a position where he thought he had to comfort Steve, like he didn’t have enough on his plate.

“I should have planned better,” Steve confessed, “This should not have happened. I’m-”

“It’ll be okay, Stevie,” and Steve could see the lines of exhaustion around his eyes. It’s been week after week of battle, Bucky never complained, but Steve knew he was getting tired. He didn’t bother to refute Steve’s claims, he probably knew it would be useless to try. Steve was stubborn. Instead he burrowed himself further into Steve’s side and closed his eyes, “Think the arm’s gonna give me an edge with the mares?” He asked.

Steve laughed, they both ignored the crack in his voice, “I’m sure it will, Buck.”

 

\---

 

The continued on with the onset of winter. They were being pushed back now. The humans had begun to retaliate, and they had strengthened their forces at the borders. There were more injuries to tally, and Steve had begun to breathe in relief when their numbers accounted for. The air was colder in the early morning. Steve was pouring over Fury’s recent letters. Their plan was slowly coalescing and the day they would take the Capital City was drawing closer.

Tony’s curls sticking into the opening of his tent surprised him. It was rare that he sought Steve out, rarer yet for him to leave his space by the forge. He was smiling up at Steve, the curve of his mouth appeared a little frail. Steve immediately looked over him in concern. Tony tended to forgo basic necessities when he went on a welding spree. He appeared to be okay however, soft hair wispy with frizz, a smudge of dirt on his cheek. He was beautiful. Tony had refused to show them his dragon form, Steve had respected his privacy. He felt like there was something more to his constant denial of it, something to do with his missing heart. So when the others goaded Tony, Steve in all his demure form stood firmly beside him. The others soon scattered under the effect of his gaze, disappointed and chiding.

Tony always smiled at him after that, not the too bright laughter he gave Bucky or Clint- this was smaller, just an amused quirk of his lips, those impressive forearms of his coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. It sent Steve’s heart speeding a mile a minute, heat pooling low in his belly.

“So?” Tony asked, breaking Steve out of his current reverie. He was fiddling with the opening of Steve’s tent, eyes scattering around like an errant sprite. The backlight from the morning rays colored his hair gold, a halo around his head. Steve said the only thing he could, “Huh?”

Tony frowned at him in confusion, “You okay Steve? I wanted to know if you had a minute.” He floundered again, cheeks flushing a little, “I wanted to, ah, show you something.”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve answered in a rush, he was certain he would walk into the pits of hell if Tony asked him to with that expression on his face. It was endearingly cute. Steve bit down on his tongue before he made a fool of himself. “What do you want to show me?” He asked.

Tony grinned at him, free and wild, the breath he took in seemed to take all the air in the tent with it, “It’s a surprise.”

He made sure Steve would know to follow after him, and walked out of the tent. He led them back to his forge, talking animatedly with his hands the whole while. “So it’s still a prototype, and some of the runes are still basic, but I think it’s got a lot of potential y’know.” He said. Tony’s space beside the forge was cluttered in tools and scrolls. The fire in the forge had been put out, the morning light giving the area a warm look. Tony picked up a wrapped up item from the stone table he had been using to set his incomplete projects.

For a moment Steve had to allow himself to be amazed by how Tony had taken the little corner they had given him and made it completely his own. There was so much Steve was doing wrong, allowing Tony into their midst while barely knowing the dragon’s name and where he came from. It had Fury upset with him, he knew. But as he looked at the mess of weapons, sheaths, new shoes, and what looked like burning arrow heads, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision he had made months ago.

“Here” Tony said, handing him the package he was holding, “open it up”

Curiosity brimming, Steve took it from him and then pushed away the swathing of cloth. A smooth round metal shield painted in red and blue was unraveled. The crafting was gorgeous, the metal was dark and unlike anything Steve had ever seen. Steve ran his palms over the convex surface and marveled at the lack of even the tiniest dent or nick. “What’s it for?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Well,” Tony dragged out, “It’s for you obviously.”

As soon as the words left Tony’s mouth, something in Steve’s stomach went cold. “For me?” he asked, incredulously.

Tony nodded enthusiastically, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I really thought this would be perfect for you. It’s got an antigravity rune embedded in the center that activates if you turn it, just so.” He said, gesturing with his palms.

Steve felt the ground underneath him shift, “What made you think I’d need something like this?” He asked.

Tony looked a little abashed, he ran a hand through his thick hair, “Well I’ve seen you watching them. You’re always there right, when the warriors train. So I thought you’d like to have something like this.”

Steve had never felt like the brunt of a worse joke. He knew he was pathetic, while Bucky managed to train with one arm, Steve was still watching them from the side. Both him and the warriors knowing that Steve would be winded up by just the basic exercises, making him more of a burden. When Steve was younger he had wanted to join anyway, forced himself amongst their ranks. He’d believed it was just a matter of proving himself. Except he realized, things were a lot more different when you had someone’s back to protect. Then it wasn’t just about Steve’s capabilities, but also about the men that depended on him. So he had resigned himself, and thrown his entire mind and body into coming up with strategies that would help them win. It raised him up in their ranks, and Steve was soon made Captain despite never going into the heat of battle himself. Steve knew his herd didn’t judge him for his incompetencies. They trusted him and respected his orders.

Except Steve had failed them, and Tony had decided to craft Steve a symbol of that failure, “Were you mocking me? Do I really look that stupid to you. That I don’t already know that I’m not doing enough?!” His voice increased in volume and Tony looked startled by it.

But Steve was feeling vicious now, the suffocation that had been clawing at him since Bucky’s return coming tumbling out, “I don’t need your pity. I know what's wrong with me. I don’t need a shield I’ll never be able to use to remind me of that.”

Tony’s face was bright with hurt, and Steve wanted to punch something, because of course Tony was pretty even in his unhappiness. Tony was like a wildfire at times, burning bright and then simmering out slow, leaving a wake of destruction in its absence. He had been so kind to Steve, and Steve wondered if it had all been through the eyes of something who saw Steve as lesser than. Not worthy.

Steve turned to gallop into the thick of the forest, ignoring Tony’s cries for him to stop. The forest swallowed him whole, and he ran with the pain in his chest, spreading like an infection into his arms, legs and stomach. He bursted out of a clearing away from their camp, it was quiet here, as quiet as nature could be, and it was where Steve allowed himself to admit that he cared. He cared for Tony, and he was heartbroken to think he could never be enough for someone who was so much more than Steve was.

When Steve returned, Clint was galloping towards him, worry high on his brow, with a cautious tone he let Steve know- Tony had gone missing.

Steve stumbled hard, and Natasha was at his elbow, trying to soothe him with a grounding touch. “Steve? It’s okay. Maybe he’s just taken a walk. Bruce was just worried because it’s been a couple of hours and we rarely see him leave that forge of his. I’m sure he’ll return before sundown.”

Tony didn’t return, and Steve could sense the herds’ worry as a collective. Bruce was pacing in front of the empty hearth of Tony’s forge, “He wouldn’t just leave like that. Something must have happened. I don’t know what. But-” Bruce broke off looking like he wanted to swear but didn't know the words that would be fitting.

Natasha was staring at Steve, and he wondered if everything that was wrong was written into the plains of his face, “You’re being awfully quiet Steve,” She said, and the words were shoved in front of his face.

“We fought,” he admitted, except could it be called a fight, where Steve had yelled and Tony had looked at him like _he_ was the one being betrayed. “He made me a shield. I got angry,” his shoulders were hunching over“ I don’t need his pity” Steve spat out.

They looked at him, eyes intent, and Steve hated to think he saw something like understanding in their depths.

“Steve,” Bucky said slowly, like Steve would set off at a word, “Did Tony actually say that himself?”

“He didn’t have to! What am I gonna do with a shield Buck?!”

“I thought you always said you wanted to protect people” Bucky replied, as though it were something obvious Steve should have understood. A conversation from months ago replayed itself in his head.

 _What do you fight for?_ The question echoed in his head, and Steve was halfway to realizing his mistake.

“I can’t fight” Steve said, helpless.

“Maybe you think you can’t” Natasha told him, “and maybe Tony believes you can in spite of that.”

They spent the week searching for Tony, but he was a dragon. They had never seen Tony transform, but they knew he could. And if Tony had taken to the skies, he could be halfway back home by now. Steve had known Tony was something of a runaway, he had his heart stolen and he was hiding away from the person who had stolen it with them. Steve also knew he should have questioned Tony more, but knowing more meant more reasons why Tony shouldn’t stay with them. Steve’s hesitance to let go, coupled with Tony’s desire to never hold on. The centre of Steve’s shield had a lone blue stone and it was Bruce who told him it was a drop of Tony’s blood. A precious gift.

There was only so much Steve could do now. They had a war to fight and the search was called off on the eighth day of Tony’s absence. Steve focused on Fury’s letters, and strategizing their next attack. They would make their move on the Capital City.  

 

\---

 

The months of attacks, of war and of loss all came down to this. Steve stood in the Magister’s palace, shield in hand and sword held high. The Magister, the one who had been uprooting Steve’s people and enslaving his brethren looked much as Steve expected him to. Steve’s men had successfully infiltrated the Capital, but the man sitting on the high throne looked anything but defeated. He was a hulking man with a balding head and a confident smirk on his mouth. He was draped lazily on the throne. He was a man who made Steve feel like he was a child with a toy holding the shield and sword in his hands.

But the blue in the centre of his shield glinted and Steve squared his shoulders back,

“Surrender”

The man on the throne laughed, it was cruel and ugly.

“Don’t rush now,” He said with a conniving grin, and a pit of fear started to unfurl in Steve. He did not like that look. “I’ve prepared a special surprise for you.”

He snapped his fingers, and Steve watched dumbfounded as a gagged and severely beaten Tony was led into the room. Tony wasn’t looking at Steve, instead he glared at the man on the throne with unadulterated hate.

“C’mon Stark, did you really think I wouldn’t know about your little dalliance?” He asked Tony, his amused tone sharp. He stood up and prowled over to Tony. He stretched his hand out and then backhanded Tony across the face, “that’s for running away."

“Don’t touch him!” Steve shouted, but his words were ignored by both men. Bucky was looking as confused as Steve from his position guarding the door. The marks across Tony’s body bloomed blue and purple, his blood almost crystalline as it dripped from his forehead.

And with the desperation in Steve’s chest to go to him, to smear that blood across his own fingers and take Tony’s face into his hands, Steve knew this was a battle he had lost.

“Drop your sword and Shield,” The Magister ordered him sharply. And Steve heard the clatter of his fallen weapons. The sound made tony flinch and he looked at Steve with wide eyes shaking his head as the Magister gripped his throat from behind.

“Did you know I was the one who took his heart?” The magister asked. “He was such an eager cub, always wanted to please. But so much trouble too, that’s why he had to be cuffed,” he said, indicating to the runed bracelets on Tony’s wrists, “Can’t have him transforming here and ruining all my plans, can we?”

Tony froze, expression crumbling in shame and Steve had never desired more to crush a man’s throat under his hooves. His heart burned, _I’ll protect you_ , he wanted to tell Tony, but Tony’s eyes on him were fearful. Not of him, but for him.

With another indication from The Magister, Obadiah Stane, Tony was held back. He seemed to understand Obadiah’s intentions because he screamed and thrashed, begging Obadiah not to go near Steve. He made promises of his blood, of his other heart. Steve, who had always been laughed at for wanting to protect people, with his skinny arms and hooves that couldn’t manage more than a mile. He stood there, arms limp to his sides as Tony screamt and Bucky galloped across the room towards them quicker than he had ever in his life.

The only thing Steve thought of, as Obadiah’s sword slid through his flesh, was that Tony’s blood was a much prettier color, and Steve would have liked to have seen his dragon form. He collapsed to his side, the pain blurring his vision.

There was a snap as an axe came hurtling through the air from one of the windows and embedded itself into the back of Obadiah’s head. The man fell beside Steve, glee still painted fresh on his face. This was followed by a pause in the room and then a flurry of action. Steve’s blood seeped red on the floor, and his dying wish was received as Obadiah’s death broke the runes on Tony’s cuffs and there he stood, a red and gold dragon, majestic beyond belief.

Steve’s chest burned with a blinding pain where the sword was still stuck in his chest, Bucky was by his side now, calling out to Steve with tears running free down his face. Steve had never seen Bucky cry, “You look ugly” he huffed out.

“Shuddup” Bucky grumbled, looking like the lost little foal he had been when Steve’s mother had put Steve in his care. And then Tony was shoving Bucky away with his head, familiar brown eyes looked at Steve with that desperate kind of worry, “G-Guess I managed to do both huh” Steve coughed out, “Protect and win”

He wondered if Tony would remember him. He wondered of there would be anyone to worry after Tony when he spent too much time at the forge. Someone to take care of the heart that beat in Tony’s chest. Steve wondered these things and more, as his eyes fluttered shut. Steve had tried his best, and he was tired now.

He would sleep, just a little and pretend that it wasn’t death.

___

Tony pushed his claw into the flesh below his scales, the pain of pulling out his heart was not new to him, but it felt lesser this time. Maybe because he was doing out of his own choice, or maybe because he was doing it for Steve. He wondered if Rhodey would think him a fool. A dragon could live without one heart, but not without two. He had a couple of minutes at most, the organ was a bright blue and he pressed it to Steve’s chest allowing his magic to bind him to Steve in a way he had never allowed with Obadiah.

Tony knew another kind of love now, one that was reckless and brave, one that wanted to protect. His heart throbbed with emotion, bleeding blue across Steve’s chest.

Steve was more important than Tony. He was more important than anything Tony had ever known. And it was all Tony could do, to feel grateful he had been allowed to protect this beautiful Golden Centaur in his lifetime.

 

\---

 

Steve woke up to the voices arguing over his head.

_“Why in the world would you rip your own heart out, you idiot?!”_

_“I had no choice! He was dying!”_

_“Obadiah was laying right next to you, dumbass! Do you always have to be so dramatic??”_

_“He was dead! I didn’t know if the heart in him was still beating.”_

_“Next time maybe check before you go off and try to kill yourself you complete moron.”_

_“Don’t be mean honey bear, you know how I get when I panic. And everything turned out perfectly fine anyway!”_

_“That is only because Thor got us there in time to save your self sacrificing ass”_

_“I said I was sorry!”_

_“But you’re not”_

_“...No, not really”_

_“I really hope he’s worth it”_

_“He’s that and more.”_

_“Well your heart sure did him good. He’s about twice the size  he used to be.”_

Steve opened his eyes to see Tony hovering over him from where Steve was laying on his side on the well cushioned bedding. Tony’s curls flopped over his forehead, there was a bandage wrapped around his chest again, and he smiled at Steve like Steve was the best thing in the world.

“Steve! You’ve finally opened your eyes.” he cheered, and Steve reached out to yank him down by the collar and press his lips to Tony’s.

“Ugh” Rhodey groaned. “A bunch of drama queens.”

 

\-----

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I totally rushed this before the deadline >.<. It hasn't even been beta'd but I got a stupid cold which delayed the completion to a couple of days before the deadline (T^T). I really wanted to post on time so here it is. Special thanks to @wynnesome and @Imperium who sat through me whining about Centaurs and my lack of knowledge this month. I really hope you enjoy this fic @Fluffypanda ^^. Thank you so much for your lovely prompts. They were amazing!!


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